


The Case of the perfect present

by daisybelle



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybelle/pseuds/daisybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John tries desperately to find the perfect Christmas present for Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 221B Advent Calendar 2012.

**Four Weeks until Christmas**

It's still one month until Christmas, but John has already re-discovered a universal truth: It is impossible to find the right present for Sherlock Holmes, especially if you want it to be a surprise. He hadn't cared so much about the present on their first Christmas together, they had been just mates back then and it was a spontaneous decision, a book from a pathologist recounting some of his most interesting cases. The next Christmas Sherlock had been dead and there was no need for any presents. He hadn't even any clear memories from that time, not that he really wanted to remember spending the holidays with several bottles of whiskey in the loneliness of his flat. But now, now they were together in every sense of the word and somehow their first Christmas as couple felt like a huge occasion.

So ever since the first Christmas-themed items turned up in the shops he thought about the right present. He isn't close to panic – after all he has still a month – , but the fact that he is at the same stage of finding the perfect present for the madman he fell in love with since September starts bothering him. That's why he tries to keep his eyes and ears open, hoping for some kind of inspiration or maybe a hint from Sherlock. In the end, it is pure coincidence that he stumbles upon the advert for a sale of lab equipment and he couldn't really believe his luck when Sherlock chooses exactly that day to help his brother on a case.

This should have been probably his hint that not everything is going to be this easy. Surprisingly the store is packed with people and even without Sherlock's ability for deduction he'd say most of them are students or actually chemists with their own kind of lab. He feels a bit lost regarding the variety of instruments and also a bit jostled around by the other customers while he slowly walks down the shelves, but in the end he settles for a mini mass spectrometer which will fit nicely in Sherlock's makeshift lab in their kitchen.

Glad that his Christmas shopping for Sherlock is over, it takes him a moment to recognise the strangled noises beside him. But the immediate cry for help from several other customers draws his attention to an elderly woman who has collapsed near the shelf of beakers. His medical training kicks in and in an instant he is besides her, checking her vitals and after finding no heartbeat starting CPR. He vaguely registers someone calling an ambulance, but is nevertheless surprised when a paramedic kneels beside him. Together they manage to stabilise her, but since her pulse is still very weak and irregular, John decides to join the paramedics in the ambulance. (He doesn't meet much resistance from the paramedics, he knows one from some of his shifts at St. Mary's and the other one is the first week on the job.)

It is hours later when he returns to Baker Street, having waited all the time in the hospital for news on his impromptu patient. When he leaves her station, her daughter is already there, thanking him for rescuing her mother. With his thoughts still on the events of afternoon, it takes him a moment to remember why he had been there in the first place. Thankfully Sherlock is still out, so he doesn't catch John's frustrated groan. Although it is not as impressive as the one he can't suppress at the store the next day, when he learns that apart from some beakers everything is sold out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Weeks until Christmas**

For the next week John tries to see the positive aspects of the mass spectrometer debacle. He has left his mobile number if the shop should miraculously receive some more items (they haven't been very encouraging in this regard). And he starts looking online if something similar turns up. At least he has some idea what to get Sherlock, now it's simply a question of logistics.

But logistics doesn't seem to be his strong suit because all of the websites simply offer machines that are too outdated, too big or simply too expensive. Since most of these offers are also from the US, which makes an arrival in time at least questionable (especially regarding custom clearance), he decides to abandon the idea and keep it in mind for the next year. Although it means he is more or less in the same position he was a week ago (only with less time at hand): He has no idea what to get the man he loves.

Even worse, Sherlock's business is literally blooming. Between the surgery and some precious hours of sleep, John finds himself dragged all around town without a chance to sneak secretly away. All he can do is some online research in his lunch break, and even those are almost always interrupted by a flood of patients with running noses and sprained ankles because winter decided to make an early and cold appearance in London.

It is quite by accident that he finds an auction for a rare First Edition of Arthur Conan Doyle's 'The History of Spiritualism', since he clicked on something entirely else. He suspects Mycroft's involvement, but decides to ignore it. (His biggest problem with asking Mycroft for help on that matter, is the strange fact that it felt like cheating.) The book is actually affordable and he knows that Sherlock quite likes works the Scottish Author and his scientific approach. So John happily joins the auction and keeps a close eye on it for the next days.

The auction ends on Thursday evening, which worries John bit. Sherlock is currently working on a smuggling case and keeps them both more out on the street than anywhere else. But on Wednesday evening the detective finds the last clue, the smugglers are arrested on Thursday morning and on midday they both stumble in their flat. They celebrate the end of another successful case with lots of ordered Indian food, a nice handjob in the shower before Sherlock collapses on their bed and is lost to the world.

Although it is more than tempting to simply lie down beside his mad genius, John carefully extricates himself from the detective and puts on a fresh sweater and trousers. The auction ends in one hour and he wants to make sure that he is the highest bidder. He settles down at their desk with a fresh cup of tea, starting to write down his notes on the latest case and regularly checks the auction. The countdown is down to five minutes and he is in the progress of elevating his bid just to be on the safe side, when the doorbell rings.

His internal fight whether to ignore it or try to get rid of the unwelcome visitors is quickly decided when he hears a noise from the bedroom. He doesn't want Sherlock to wake up again, so he rushes down the stairs and opens the door. A choir of Carol Singers is greeting him and starts singing almost immediately. All his protests are in vain and he is subjected to three Christmas songs all the while his mind is still on the open page on his laptop (and cursing his mother for his upbringing, he has no doubt Sherlock would just have closed the door). When the children finally stop singing, he gets back in the flat to retrieve his wallet. A glance at the monitor shows that the auction has ended and someone else has now Sherlock's Christmas present. His donation to the Carol Singers is not as generous as it could have been, but some of the kids are quite impressed with his string of curses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two Weeks until Christmas**

Slowly John gets desperate. There are only so many days until Christmas and he is still without a present and even worse without any other idea. It seems as if all kind of strange shops in London or the internet are out of remotely interesting stuff and web pages with gift advice are less then helpful for a man like Sherlock Holmes. He even starts questioning his patients and colleagues, but apparently none of them is in a relationship with somebody like the world's only Consulting Detective. Only one thing sticks out as a possibility: toys.

The conspiratorial voice in which this advice is delivered makes it perfectly clear that his patient doesn't mean board games (and after the Great Cluedo Debacle of 2012 those are not even an option). Sherlock and he haven't gotten around to lots of experimenting, since their relationship is still in their early days and sex is more often than not a rush of need in the aftermaths of a solved case and seldom a tender lovemaking. But the idea of a bound and pliant Sherlock gives John some interesting ideas. He is actually a little bit proud that he manages to ask for a good store without too much blushing and stuttering.

John sacrifices another lunch break to explore the given address. The store is indeed very classy as far as he can judge, but John feels a little bit overwhelmed by the endless possibilities. There are things he recognises like dildos, vibrators, anal beads and such. They even offer a variety of ropes, chains and handcuffs. But some of the things look more like modern art or torture instruments and the longer he stays in the store, the more insecure he becomes. Sherlock and he have never talked about this. He is pretty sure that the Detective with his natural curiosity will be open for any experiment, but somehow it seems wrong being in the store without him.

"Do you need some help, honey?"

He is just toying with a set of handcuffs when one of the shop attendants approaches him.

"No, I'm fine. Just browsing."

"Do you look for something particular?" Apparently he has attracted the attention of the most helpful of the staff.

"No, not really, just trying to get an idea what's possible."

"Anything is possible, honey." Oh god, now he is trapped in a bad commercial for sex toys.

"Who are you shopping for, hon? Yourself? Partner?"

"Partner."

"Ah lovely, sexy Christmas, right. Male or female." The questioning brings back awkward memories from his teenager years when his mum asked him about his crushs.

"Male." God, he is grown-up man. He had been in the army, for god's sake. This is pretty ridiculous.

"No need to be embarrassed, we love everybody." Abruptly John decides that he will never again tell one of his patients not to be embarrassed, it doesn't help in the slightest.

"Okay, let's start with the basics. Here we have the dildos, but I think you might start with prostate stimulator."

The thing in his hands looks like a sculpture he has seen in a museum during one of their most recent cases and not like something to give pleasure. His face must have shown some of his disbelief because the attendant quickly adds.

"Not, that I think that it is necessary. It's just a little extra, you know. My boyfriend really gets wild when I use it on him."

As a doctor he is used to hear far too intimate stories, but when shopping sex toys for his gorgeous lover he really doesn't need any details of other people's love live. And he even less wants to hear about it while he has a now vibrating toy in his hand and a shop attendant explains how it works with lots of suggestive hand movements. With a firm push he returns the item to said hands before he turns on his heel, hastily explaining:

"Do you know what, I will return with him and then we'll decide together."

Outside he takes a deep breath. Now he may have found something to keep Sherlock occupied when he is bored, but he still has no present. (And very much later, when he lies sated and out of air besides Sherlock, he is quite convinced that they don't need a prostrate stimulator.)


	4. Chapter 4

**One Week until Christmas**

It's one week until Christmas and John dreads every morning when he slides the little red square of their calendar one day nearer to the great giftless festivities of 2012. God, couldn't he have fallen for someone normal whose main interest doesn't involve dead bodies and/or body parts. He is quite cranky and he knows it. His colleagues avoid him and even Greg starts keeping his distance. And after a particular vicious discussion with Donovan she seems now convinced that Sherlock is actually the sane one of them two.

He even picks up fights with Sherlock. And he knows that he isn't fair as soon as he sees the hurt look in those grey eyes, but in this moment he can't do nothing more than grab his jacket and try to calm down while walking through London. This really has to end. This Christmas was supposed to be about them being together and now he can't even think straight just because of a damn present. God, now he has to make it up to Sherlock and still find a fucking present.

Well, at least the first part is easy, John knows that Sherlock waits for some index fingers from Molly. He also knows that they have already arrived, but because of their fight he hasn't told him. He will simply get them for Sherlock and apologise. Shaking his head about himself he realises that he not only put up with the strange and weird experiments of the detective, but obviously started to encourage them. Next thing he knows, he will bring a complete body home.

_A complete body._

Of course!

Involuntary John has stopped, but he doesn't even notice the passerby that bumps into him. A complete body for his own. Molly usually only allows one set of experiments with the bodies she provides for Sherlock, but maybe he can convince her to make an exception. The sane part of his brain (which sounds remarkably like Sally Donovan) tries to convince him that there is a reason why body parts didn't even make it on the list of potential Christmas gifts, but that part is easily ignored by the desperate part that finally founds a solution to his problem. He continues his way in a much better mood than before and manages even a few minutes of pleasant small talk with the morgue's guard.

Unfortunately his good mood doesn't last very long, since Molly is as sweet and as understanding as ever, but not able to help him.

"What do you mean, you can't give me a body? I mean, I don't even need an interesting death, natural causes will do." Again the sane part in him makes an appearance and is a bit horrified about this statement, but it is still outweighed by the desperate part.

"I'm sorry John. But every Christmas we have some kind of Secret Santa with body parts for the students. Every student receives a limb or a torso and tries to find the cause of death. When he is right, he gets a whole body for learning. So we are saving bodies for the students, I can't give any away."

Definitely a bit different from his days.

"And there is not even a limb you can spare for Sherlock?" A whole body was in any case an insane idea.

"I'm sorry, but they are all accounted for. And Prof Mortimer has them all listed."

Molly sounds really stressed out that she can't help him. So much for this idea, god, he had been so close.

"Oh, okay. It was worth a try." John grabs the carrier with the fingers and starts his way home. On the door he pauses, apparently it is time for cheating.

"Do you have any idea what I might get Sherlock?"

Molly looks at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"You two are so close, I'm sure you'll find something."

"Let's hope so. Merry Christmas to you."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Three days until Christmas**

When he enters the Yard it is astonishingly calm, probably the calmest he has ever seen it. The guard at the entrance knows him and just waves him through. When he wanders to Lestrade's office he can see that some of the guys are avoiding eye contact with him. He must have been really terrible. (Though he doesn't feel to guilty about it, most of them treat Sherlock way worse.)

He knocks on Greg's open door, he can see the DI eating a donut while glaring at his monitor.

"Everything alright?"

"I swear this damn computer gets slower everyday." With a muttered curse Greg throws the mouse away before greeting the doctor. "Hello John. Where is Sherlock?"

"Studying the changed traffic lights in Wimbledon."

For a moment Greg looks as if he might ask before he obviously thinks better of it.

"And why are you here?"

"I need a favour."

"No, I can't let them vanish, why are people asking me this all the time?"

"Asking you what?"

"Traffic tickets. It's a complete different division."

"I'm not here about traffic tickets."

"Don't tell me you're here because you need an alibi."

"No, I just wanted you to ask if you could give me some cold case files for Sherlock. I need a present and it should be something he really likes. And this man is so bloody complicated to shop for, you have no idea."

John has long thought about this, it's certainly not his best idea, but considerably better than the body from the morgue. At least his kitchen would remain usable. Although he fears that the nice relaxed days he imagined will remain there – a part of his imagination.

Greg stares at him for a moment before he straightens himself. His face changes from relaxed to more official.

"I can't."

That is certainly unexpected.

"Why the hell not? He will probably solve them and everybody is happy."

"Yes, I know, but I can't give them to you because they are already my present to myself."

"What do you mean 'your present to yourself'?"

"Well, I will give them Sherlock, he will solve them and I will spend Christmas at the Yard arresting criminals instead of thinking about how my daughter will spend her Christmas with my Ex and her new lover."

The bitterness in the other man's voice leaves John speechless for a moment.

"Greg …" he starts but is immediately interrupted.

"Don't pity me, John. It's just the damn holidays."

They sit in silence for a long moment. John simply wishes he knew something to say, something to cheer the other man up, but he is at loss for words.

"You can always come over to Baker Street", he finally offers helplessly.

Lestrade snorts. "Really, John, I don't need to feel like a fifth wheel. It's alright. Just leave it."

The silence stretches again between them, becoming uncomfortable until John can't bear it any longer. This is obviously one of those time for a tactical retreat.

"Okay, I have to go. Take care when you are arresting those criminals."

He gets a half-smile back. In the end he doesn't know what makes him turn at the door.

"If it's too boring at the Yard, you can always go to the morgue. Molly will be there on Christmas."

For a moment the older man looks stunned, before a real smile develops, a hopeful one. "I might just do this."


	6. Chapter 6

**Christmas Eve**

On Christmas Eve John is tempted to check whether the surgery has actually opened its door because there are no patients coming in. Probably all busy buying the last gifts and chocolates or ingredients for the Christmas roast. Nothing he needs to worry about, Mrs Hudson has made it quite clear that they were expected at her dinner table.

He has settled for a bunch of little things for Sherlock. A new dressing gown – a grey one matching his eye colour –, a new scarf, some new beakers for his chemistry set, a new bow for the violin. And he plans to apologise with lots of sex for the lack of surprise in his presents. As far as he can see his chances are about fifty-fifty that this plan will actually work.

John uses the quiet day to catch up with his paper work, but he is not unhappy when Dave, their pharmaceutical representative, comes to the surgery. At least someone to talk to – the two nurses who are sharing his shift are debating the pro and cons of several beauty products, not a topic he is familiar with. And of course since he is the senior doctor that day, it is officially his responsibility to talk to the man.

They make a bit of small talk while John watches Dave sorting out their medical cabinet. All samples which are close to their expiry date end in a large bag and another idea starts forming in his head.

"What happens to those samples?"

"They will be destroyed."

"Any chance I can keep some of those?" he asks carefully.

This gets him Dave's attention and a sharp inquiry.

"Why do you want to keep them?"

John just shrugs. "My partner is a chemist, it would be a nice surprise."

The doctor easily holds his ground against the suspicious glare. He is used to worse. And obviously his calmness has the desired effect.

"I can't just give them to you, there are analgesics among them. That would be against the law."

John clearly hears that this is not a definite no.

"What about the others? Anti-Histamines or blood-thinner? Vitamins? Something like that."

Dave hesitates a bit: "I suppose I could give them to you. Your partner is really a chemist?"

"Yes, hobby chemist. He has a lab in our kitchen", John confirms.

Another hesitating glance but then Dave starts sorting again, any pain medication wanders directly in his bag, everything else wanders in the container John gets from the kitchen. It is quite an impressive collection he has in the end. His wishes for a "Merry Christmas" are really deep felt this time.

**Christmas Day**

"You know, I really would have been alright with the scarf and the bow and the make-up-sex."

John lifts his head from Sherlock's chest to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Returning to his comfy position he glances at the jar on their night table. He has filled it up with Dave's pills, some homoepathics and Smarties, a nice mixture for Sherlock to analyse. Sherlock's face while unwrapping the jar had been spectacular as well as the thank-you-sex. Now he is just happy to lie in his lover's arms and glad that he has a whole year until he needs to find the next Christmas present.


End file.
